Who's There?
by 40Winks
Summary: Two young men fall in love and have to come to terms with their feelings as well as their family situations. One comes from a long line of heroes who fight for justice while the other comes from a line of villains bent on destruction and chaos.


Who's There?

A Batman story told by 40Winks

Preface and legal mumbo jumbo to this story:

I took the liberty of basing a lot of the history involving Batman and many of his compatriots from the story lines in the Batman No Man's Land story arc. Some of the characters have been given new monikers to both show a new timeline as well as to introduce new characters. All the characters involved in this story are the creations of and property of DC Comics with the exceptions of the new Robin aka Alfred Richard Grayson aka Al, his sister Leslie Marie Grayson, Tim Drake's daughter Megan Elizabeth Drake, Knock Knock Quinzel aka Kris Kornel Sikes aka K.K. and his adoptive father Russell Sikes the attorney who all came from my own twisted mind. The properties of DC Comics were used with permission (hopefully lol). This story does involve some sexuality and adult content as well as adult language. Be advised and don't be offended. Please enjoy and comment positive or negative as this is my first try at writing.

Who's There?

K.K. knew that one whisper of this night in either of his parent's ears could bring about retribution so swift and painful that even a survivor like himself might not ever come back from it. He also knew with absolute certainty that he had come too far to back out now. The stakes were higher than most could comprehend, but then the rewards were extraordinary enough to justify the danger in his adolescent mind. It took a bold young man to walk up to Batman's door to beg for a place on his crime fighting team.

Standing before that monstrous set of double doors carved with the Wayne family crest, K.K.'s mind rummaged through all that he knew of the infamous Bat Clan. Batman himself had a reputation for spending many years as a loner who rarely worked with a partner of any sort until Dick Grayson had come along hurting and needing so badly. The devastated boy who had witnessed his entire family's deaths at the hands of a madman had struck a chord in Bruce Wayne's heart. Dick was filled with a rage for vengeance that rivaled his own and Bruce felt compelled to take him in hand, teaching him to funnel that anger into something valuable. A new persona coalesced: Robin. Before Robin came along, Batman's only confidante was Alfred, his faithful butler. Somewhere in the process of nurturing Robin, he found the courage to open up and trust in others.

It wasn't long after that the daughter of his police contact came to him with a costume and a determination to be included in their efforts to keep Gotham safe. Batgirl wormed her way into their lives before they knew what hit them, though it was months before she revealed to them that she was Barbara Gordon, Commissioner Gordon's only daughter. After many years as Batgirl, a crippling assault left her wheelchair bound but still determined to be useful and the Oracle was born.

The next permanent member to the expanding team was a little boy, Tim Drake who correctly guessed the true identities of both Batman and Robin. Once he had seen them in action he recognized Dick's unique gymnastic style from his time with the Flying Graysons. After Dick restyled himself as Nightwing, Tim convinced Alfred to give him the old costume and he proceeded to rescue Batman earning himself a place by Batman's side. Like Dick before him, his transformation from boy to man also included a new costume and a new name, Wren.

One of the Oracle's informants made the unlikely leap from a helper to the next Batgirl. Cassandra Cain was no ordinary set of ears. She was raised by her father, David Cain, to be an assassin. He never taught to her to speak, only to read body language. Repulsed by his violent lifestyle, she ran away to Gotham where she eventually found her niche. With the help of the Bat Clan and a telepath she gained the ability to speak and took on the new persona of Nightingale.

The latest Robin, Alfred (Al for short) Grayson was a welcome addition to both the team and the family. Thankfully by the time he put on the costume for the first time, his mother, Helena Bertinelli, had finally been accepted by all the others. Even Barbara had a hard time remaining cold and distant after Helena asked her to be the maid of honor at her wedding to Dick Grayson. Nightwing had spent the year after they lifted the exile of Gotham helping the Huntress recover from her severe injuries and one thing led to another little Robin. Motherhood and marriage changed Helena in ways she hadn't imagined and her new respect for life helped her to fit in with Batman's code of conduct.

So including old Bats himself, the team was up to an all time high of seven active members. If K.K. had anything to say about it, then after tonight it would be eight. One might wonder how a young man of fifteen came across this much intimate knowledge of the lives and loves of the Bat Clan. Two little secrets could explain how. It was only the amalgamation of the two secrets that led to the knowledge. That knowledge and those secrets, both together and separately, contained the power to ruin lives and tear families apart.

The first of these potentially hazardous secrets was that for the last four years K.K. had begun developing a friendship with Alfred Richard Grayson through school. This year they had been roommates as freshmen at the same exclusive boarding school. This wasn't really the secret. The hidden facet of that friendship was that they had started sleeping in the same bed four months ago.

Neither boy had ever confided their confusion and questioning about their sexuality to anyone except each other. However during the months leading up to the deepening of their intimacy, Al had begun explaining the truth of his double identity to his best friend. K.K. was deeply honored and miserably shamed by this huge trust. His discomfort stemmed from the fact that he too had a secret identity. He didn't reveal his secret shame until the night they became lovers.

The stories of the Bat Clan were not new to him other than the true identities of the members involved. He grew up hearing of their exploits, though not told as heroic tales, but as warnings of enemies to be wary of, told to him by his mother and on rare occasions by his father. Of course most people who knew him were not aware that he had ever spoken to either of his parents as it was assumed they were dead since he was known as the orphan adopted by Russell Sikes. Sikes was a rich and powerful attorney who had represented his real parents in court more times than could be counted on all his fingers and toes.

K.K.'s real name was not common knowledge either. On his learners permit his name was listed as Kristopher Kornel Sikes. Sikes had come to the conclusion that renaming his adopted son was in everyone's best interest for two very compelling reasons. The first reason was to protect K.K. from the unwanted attention he would receive if people were aware of the hideous reputations of his biological parents. The second reason was that Sikes was an uptight, humorless man and Knock Knock Quinzel was an embarrassingly ridiculous name.

This was the older of the two secrets and, of the two, the one that K.K. protected ferociously. His mother was Dr. Harleen Quinzel and his father was Jack Napier, better known as Harley Quinn and the Joker, the two most notorious criminals to ever darken the doorstep of Gotham. K.K. considered himself lucky to have inherited Harley's fine ivory complexion as opposed to the Joker's dead fish belly white skin. Unfortunately he did end up with hair that naturally grew green as grass. Once he tried to bleach it out to blonde like his mother's hair, but it only turned out a light green shade similar to the lime streaks at the Joker's temples that were apparently his version of "going grey". Following that disastrous experiment he stuck to a dye that was dark as midnight.

K.K. knew he was going to have to tell Al the truth soon enough, when their first night of intimacy gave him just the segue he desired. He didn't think it'd work so well to say to his friend, "Hey Al, guess what?" "What?" "I'm dying of cancer." "Oh my god!" "Only kidding, I'm just the Joker's son! Ha ha!" Right…not so much.

They were making out in K.K.'s bunk when Al noticed that with their wrestling about K.K.'s tank top had pulled up some and the obvious arousal in his briefs had distended the waistband, together revealing a soft trail of downy green hair. When Al asked him about it, he decided to go for broke. "I have a horrible confession to make. I'll understand if you don't want to remain my friend or anything anymore, but I will be hurt. I…never knew how to say it…to tell you, but…I love you."

Al smiled with heart stopping sweetness and quickly kissed K.K. to reassure him. "You can tell me anything. I think I love you, too. I wouldn't stop being your friend, even though you are silly enough to dye your pubes." Al quipped with a chuckle. K.K. responded hesitantly,"Um…I didn't dye them. That is my natural hair color. I dye the hair on my head regularly." Al came back with, "What!? How is that possible?" K.K. met his eyes, "Well...see…cuz my real dad is the Joker."

Al's eyes grew big as saucers and he sat up straight so fast that he promptly fell off the side of the bunk bed to slam ass first on the hardwood floor five feet below, too startled to land right and save his butt from a bruise. K.K. descended the ladder and offered him a hand up, but Al jerked back from him still stunned and horrified by the admission. K.K. quickly turned his back to hide the sudden tears filling up his eyes and clumping his lashes together. He abruptly sat on Al's lower bunk because his legs gave up on keeping him on his feet. He tried to get control, but it just hurt too damn much and he really let go. Not loudly, but his back and shoulders hunched and quivering like his lips and the tears sloshed like a stream down his face to wet his tank.

He had turned and crammed his face into Al's pillow to hide when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, then a weight settling on the bed beside him. Al's arms came around him, pulling him unresisting closer. This was too much to bear and as his own arms betrayed him, wrapping about Al's waist where they felt they belonged, he buried his face in Al's neck sobbing shamelessly. Al stroked his hair back, hugging him closer still and whispering in his ear, "I'm so sorry baby. Please don't cry anymore. I didn't mean to hurt you, I was just scared." Over and over he whispered reassurances into K.K.'s ear until the shudders died down and the tears dried up.

With fingers under his chin, Al lifted K.K.'s face up into light to look him in the eyes. K.K. sniffed loudly, not truly improving his tear and snot smeared face any, but Al didn't care. He grabbed a tissue and wiped his face clean while stroking his damp hair back. "I'm not him. I am not my father." This was affirmed in a quiet, yet determined voice. Al responded, "I know that. How could I not. Please forgive me for doubting you even for a second, but for a moment all I could think was that I had told you everything about my family and you are the son of their worst enemy. To think I had betrayed my family, putting them all in jeopardy terrified me."

"I can understand that Al, I really can. You must believe me though when I say that I would never betray that trust, I love you too much. I am so ashamed to be the son of Gotham's most insane and dangerous criminals. Sometimes it eats me up inside so much I hate myself." Al quickly reassured him, "You can't let get to you. You are not responsible for what they have done. Nobody gets to pick their parents. Thank you for trusting me with your secret." Al kissed him deeply, hugging him hard.

K.K. pulled back enough to look Al in the eyes. "So this doesn't change how you feel about me?" Al smiled and said, "Of course it changes how I feel." K.K.'s eyes got wide. "It does?" he whispered timidly. "Yes it does. Now I love and admire you even more." K.K. breathed a heavy exhalation. "You have this humongous burden, this horrible weight on your shoulders and yet you are the sweetest, nicest guy I have ever met."

Al laughed softly, "Just promise me one thing, OK?" "What's that, dude?" "Promise me that we won't end up like Romeo and Juliet." K.K. laughed and asked, "How so?" Al laughed outright, "C'mon you have to see the similarities. I mean talk about feuding families!" They both giggled at that. "Seriously though, I wouldn't know what to do if you ever hurt yourself because you thought my family couldn't accept you for who you are. So help me if you ever committed suicide I would hire a voodoo witch doctor to bring you back so I could slap the shit out of you."

"Wait…your family? You're going to tell them about us, about me? Are you out of your mind?!" "No K.K. I am have not lost my mind, but I try to be an honest person. I don't like lies and deception, especially when it involves people I love. I haven't told them I'm gay yet only because I wasn't entirely sure about it myself until we moved in together here. Then it became fairly obvious that this wasn't a phase. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen and watching you dress and undress gave me proof positive that I definitely like boys!"

K.K. was feeling scared and miserable all over again. "But what if they won't accept me? What will we do if they freak? What will you do?" Al put on a brave face, "I won't give up on you, that's for damn sure. No matter what they say. If they can't understand, then we can run away together until they get over it. We could always be heroes in another city. Where ever you go, I want to follow." "You mean that?" Al nodded, "With all my heart, but stop worrying about it, ok? It's not like I'm going to call and tell them tonight." "That's good, but why not?"

Al reached out and turned off the desk light and pushed K.K. down on the bed in the sudden darkness. He climbed on top of K.K. and began dropping little kisses and licks on his neck. When he got to K.K.'s ear he whispered, "I have much more pressing matters to attend to tonight." K.K. giggled and whispered back, "That was terrible." Then he gasped at a new sensation and lost the ability to form sentences. It turns out they weren't needed and the only other words spoken the rest of the night were a breathless, "Love you." Followed by an equally exhausted, "Love you, too."

Four months later found K.K. in the back of a limo, dressed to the nines with Al sitting across from him sipping a cola. Al was looking very grown up and suave in his tuxedo. "You look very handsome tonight Al." Al groaned, "Ugh, I hate dressing up. We're normally very casual at the mansion, but Aunt Cassie insists on making any special occasion as nice as we can manage. Seriously though, it's just my Uncle Tim's birthday. I bet he would rather be in jeans and a t-shirt, but he almost never argues with his wife when it comes to family matters. She never had a proper childhood, never had Christmas or birthday parties. So we all kinda get it."

A few minutes later Al reached across and put his hand on K.K.'s knee to still the nervous bouncing. "Calm down buddy. It's going to be fine, don't go stroking out on me. I know CPR and all, but this penguin suit is going to get in the way." K.K. laughed weakly. "Sorry, but this is nerve-wracking. Seriously though, what if they freak out? What if they don't think I can be trusted? Oh my God! Would they kill me to keep their secrets safe? Or lock me up or something?" K.K. broke out in a sweat at this new series of unpleasant thoughts.

Al moved over to the seat next to him to pull him into a hug. "You need to chill out. They are gonna like you, I promise. They would never kill you; Bruce is totally against killing anyone. Even your dad. That's the deepest part of our family's code when it comes to crime fighting. We do not kill, period. Now stop worrying they will like you just fine, I promise. You are a great guy, not to mention highly skilled for your age. I mean c'mon you beat me two out of three times sparring, boxing or wrestling. You're an awesome gymnast and swimmer. Okay you do suck at chemistry, but we all have our weaknesses. You will astound them, I just know it.

The driver dropped them off in front of the monolithic staircase leading up to the front doors. The house looked amazing, even more so to anyone who knew how it had looked after the series of big earthquakes that hit Gotham almost twenty years earlier. Most of it had sunk down below the ground level. Once inside, K.K. saw that the main hall managed to look both majestic and inviting; a drastic change from the austere cold aloofness of the gothic exterior. The walls were practically dripping with fine art and the warm colored rugs had pile so deep it made you want to take your shoes off and dig your toes in to truly appreciate how plush they were.

Al led him down the hall to the set of double doors carved with an elaborate crest to represent the Wayne family. He stopped and turned to K.K. asking, "Are you ready?" K.K. replied, "Gimmie just a minute, okay?" Al nodded with a supportive smile. K.K. tried to slow his breathing down as his mind raced. He was almost petrified, but resolute as well. Given all he knew about this family, he was certain that he could be a valuable addition just as long as prejudice didn't get in his way. He took several deep and calming breaths, and then nodded once to his lover.

Al threw the door back and strode gleefully into the room with K.K. in his wake. "Hey everybody!" In a very loud voice he added, "Hi Uncle Tim. I know at your age it gets hard to remember everyone, but I am Alfred, your nephew. Do you recognize me still? No just playin', happy birthday." While his little sister, Leslie and his "cousin" Megan (both almost finished with their first year of elementary school) started giggling uncontrollably, his parents both looked suitably horrified. Tim and Cassandra both laughed and waved while Barbara hid a grin behind her hand. Bruce face palmed himself shaking his head and asking in a resigned voice, "We are never going to teach you to behave like a gentleman, are we?" Al smirked, "Of course you can't, gramps. So how's it hangin'?" Bruce stirred up something approaching an evil grin saying, "Call me that again you little cad and you're out of my will. So who is your shy friend trying so very hard not go unnoticed back there?"

Al glanced behind himself and then grabbed K.K. by the shoulder and dragged him forward claiming, "This is my best friend and roommate from school, Kris Sikes. I did call ahead to say he was coming home with me for the weekend and mom said it was fine. Kris these are my parents, Dick and Helena. My little sister, Leslie is the cutie with the dark curls. The adorable girl with the big blue eyes is my cousin, Megan and those are her parents, Uncle Tim the birthday boy and Aunt Cassie. This is my Aunt Barbara and my grandfather Bruce. It's actually a lot more complicated than all that, but that's basically how it works."

They sat across the table from each other; Al dropped himself into a chair between his mom and sister and K.K. squeezed between Barbara and Megan. This immediately caused K.K. to feel a bit awkward since it was his father who had put Barbara in that wheelchair. Al conversely was quite animated throughout the evening meal, entertaining the girls with stories from school and in general keeping everyone in the room focused on himself instead of K.K. who was eternally grateful for the respite. He was not totally spared. As a new guest in the house he drew looks and questions, mostly polite and curious ones. "Grandpa" Bruce made him the most nervous with his line of questioning and sharp looks as the meal was ending.

"Hmm…Sikes was it? You wouldn't happen to be any relation to the lawyer Russell Sikes would you?" K.K. stuttered through his answer, "Uh…yes sir I am. He…uh…I guess he's my father." "You guess so? I didn't realize he was married, let alone had a son." "Well he's not married and I'm not really his son. He sorta adopted me." "Sort of?" Bruce chuckled, "How exactly does one sort of adopt a son?" "Well…I mean he uh…he's more like a guardian than a dad. He paid for all the nannies, tutors, coaches, private schools, food, clothes and whatnot. I get to have dinner with him on the occasional holiday when he is feeling particularly guilty or lonely."

Bruce looked embarrassed for having brought up such an indelicate topic at the table. When he spoke again it was in a much milder, apologetic tone, "Son, I am sorry. Well any friend of Alfred's that he speaks so highly of is welcome here. Be sure to visit us again with him." K.K.'s face got red again as he said, "Oh wow, thank you sir. I would like that a lot." Bruce pointed a finger at his face with a very stern look on his own visage, "Now just because you are invited does not mean you get to call me Grandpa. It's cute when the six-year olds do it. Not so very adorable when the almost sixteen year olds try." "No grandpa. Okay got it." K.K. responded, laughing. While normally very reserved, Bruce could cut up a room when things got too tense.

Barbara's head suddenly snapped up, "Sikes…Russell Sikes? He's the bastard who represented the Joker during the trial for the murder of Sarah Essen and the kidnapping and attempted murder of thirty-six infants, isn't he?" K.K. muttered, "Uh…yeah, but…" Bruce interrupted him, "Barb…honey that was a long time ago. Kris here wasn't even alive when all that occurred. No Man's Land is something he and Alfred read about in their history textbooks. They didn't live through it like we did. I don't think you should be attacking the kid here for what his father does for a living." Barbara's face tried valiantly to match her hair color. "Kris I am sorry, that was uncalled for. I…Sarah was my stepmother. She was everything I wanted to be, brave and courageous. It still hurts to think about the Joker killing her in cold blood. One day she was there, loving my father and making him happy. The next she was gone. She was trying to save those babies when he cut her down. I have more reasons than your average Gothamite to hate him. He...well…"

"I know Ms. Gordon. I know he's the reason you are in that chair." Barbara tried to hide a gasp behind her hand, "How do you know about that?" "I too have had close encounters with the Joker in my life. He scares me. The nightmares aren't as bad as they once were, but they still hit me often and hard. So what I have done to try to overcome my fears is to try to prepare myself for the inevitable. Years ago I began studying the Joker and his history. I know more about him than almost any other citizen of Gotham. That's why I also began studying martial arts, gymnastics, forensic science, criminology, abnormal psychology, Zen meditation, dream interpretation and anything else I could come up with to prepare for the next time he tries to come back into my life."

Dick was the first to recover from that explosive admission. "Leslie, Megan…girls why don't head down to the kitchen and tell Mrs. Livingston to give you your dessert at the table there, ok?" The girls obediently got up and hustled out the door behind the table. Dick looked back at K.K. who had gotten very pale. No one else spoke so Dick jumped back in, "You said encounters, plural? How many times have you run afoul of the Joker, Kris?" The others all leaned in expectantly to hear the answer.

"He has kidnapped me on three separate occasions and has tried without success at least a half-dozen times more that I know about. He nabbed me once when I was three. I don't really remember that very well, just some vague images that stir up in dreams from time to time. The next time he got me I was six, almost seven. I remember every single moment most vividly. I'd rather not go into all the gruesome details of that month." Helena choked out, "A month?! The Joker kept you prisoner for an entire month?! Good God!" Dick hushed her and asked, "Please go on Kris."

"The last time was when I was eleven. That was the worst for me. He…branded me. He made me watch while he did unspeakable things to others. I was dosed with an unknown drug so a lot of the memories are hazy and have a dream-like, or rather nightmarish quality to them. It actually makes them scarier. He used electroshock treatments on me…uhm…" By now there were tears rolling unheeded down K.K.'s cheeks. "He did things I couldn't even tell my therapist." He hung his head in shame at the memories pouring through his head.

Barbara laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, "He branded you? How?" K.K. stood up and removed his jacket, draping it over the back of his chair. Turning his back on them as he started unbuttoning his shirt, then lowered it down so they could see his upper back. Across his pale shoulder blades was a word composed of heavy ridges of scar tissue. More knots of scars just below it spelled out a repeat of the same word. It read "Knock Knock". Tim shook his head, "Jesus that's sick. That definitely looks like his work, only the Joker could be that depraved. I can imagine how badly that must have hurt. You are one brave young man, Kris."

K.K. laughed sardonically as he rearranged his clothes and sat back down, "Actually I must admit to being a bit grateful that he doped me up. I really didn't feel it so bad till later. I've spent the last almost five years preparing myself for the next time he tries to get at me. If that son of a bitch ever lays a hand on me again he'll draw back a bloody stump. I will never let him take me again. I'd rather die trying to stop him, so at least he's lost that advantage over me. I will never be that helpless again."

Bruce finally spoke up, "Son, why are you telling us all of this? Other than young Alfred here we are total strangers to you. Why us?" K.K. was quiet for a moment then replied, "Because I need help. I need more training and better training than I have been able to get on my own, even with all the money Sikes throws at me. You are the best there is out there. I know who you all really are. I know what you are capable of and what you all stand for." He looked each person at the table in the eyes as he named them, "Robin, Nightwing, Huntress, Wren, Nightingale, Oracle and Batman. Please sir, I beg of you. Take me on and teach me to be one of you. I need this more than you can ever know. Please help me." He put his head down and cried softly repeating, "Please" over and over.

Bruce cleared his throat, getting everyone's attention, "Before we can make any decisions, I think we need to hear more. There is something more, isn't there young man?" K.K. raised his face back up, his eyes red-rimmed and slightly out of focus. "Oh yes, there's more. Much more. The Joker drove my mother insane before I was even born. He robbed me of my childhood. He stole my family from me, took away even the most remote possibility that I would ever have a normal life, a normal family or even a normal body. He branded me inside and out. You have all met my real parents. Kris isn't my real name at all. He got really irate when Sikes had my name changed. That's why he carved and burnt it into my back. I guess he and Harley Quinn put a lot of thought into my name while she was pregnant with me. It pissed him off royally to know that no one ever calls me Knock Knock. When we were alone he called me daddy's biggest little joke. He must have told me fifty or sixty knock knock jokes while he was putting on my permanent name tag."

"So there you have it. My mask is off. The Joker is my father and Harley Quinn is my mother. Judge me for their crimes if you must, but know this: I will never fall prey to his wickedness again. I'd rather die than have to listen to his insane ramblings. I will never again suffer at his hands and if I can prevent it, no one else will either. So what's it gonna be? Am I on my own here or are you gonna help me?" He looked each of them in the eyes again for a moment, and then let his gaze rest on Bruce.

Oracle was the first to respond, "He has my blessing. He cannot be blamed for the crimes of his parents. I thought what I lost to the Joker was too much, but his boy's strength shames me as it should all of you as well. So help me if any of you tell him no." She glared around the table.

The Huntress nodded agreement, "Bruce if you tell him no, then I am gone, too. I will train him myself if I have to. If we turn him away from here then we're no better than Harley Quinn. He needs us and he needs the training we can give him."

Nightingale was next to chime in, "I know what it's like to have a killer for a father. I came to Gotham to escape him. Bruce, you all helped me to get away from him and his influence. You continued my training, helped me to learn to speak and taught me to be myself. I say he's one of us. Now. He needs a family, a real one and damn it, we're it."

Wren smiled at his wife, "I can't disagree with all the ladies. It's just not gentlemanly. This little guy has got spunk, drive and guts. Even if he didn't need us, I say Gotham needs him. He'll make a fantastic crime fighter and it's our duty to see that he fulfills that destiny."

Robin raised his hand, rather like in school and asked, "Do I have any say in this matter?" Every adult at the table consented. "Well everyone else has covered the uh more practical reasons why he should be welcomed into our clan. I will address the selfish one. I am in love with him." Every jaw at the table dropped except for Bruce and Helena's. Bruce nodded and Helena smiled a mother's all-knowing smile. Alfred continued, "We met at school four years ago and since then have grown closer and closer. There's nothing I wouldn't do for him and I trust him with my life. Whether you all approve or not, he is mine and I am his. So I say he is one of us." There was silence for a time while everyone digested this. Then Nightwing stood up, "All I have to say is that I am still your father young man and until you are eighteen you will not share a bedroom in this house. After that you may do as you please."

All eyes turned to Bruce. He sat still for a moment, considering. Then he stood and looked at everyone, "Is that all you have to say? No one has anything else to add?" No one spoke. It was Batman then, not Bruce who looked deep into K.K.s eyes. Batman was impressed that the kid didn't flinch, blink or look away, but held his gaze. "Protect the innocent, respect your elders, follow orders and keep our sacred trust and secrets safe. We do not kill. Is that understood?" K.K. nodded once, unable to speak yet. "Good, then I think it's time to show you the Bat Cave.

The End


End file.
